Trapped Together
by breannatala
Summary: Snape has to stay a day at the Dursleys' in Harry's room because the Death Eaters are watching the house and Snape is injured. Then something unexpected and bad happens. More to be added later. NOT SLASH
1. P1: The Trapped Realize

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it.**

**A/N: Check out my other stories!**

"Where am I?"

"My aunt and uncle's house," Harry answered the man.

"Potter!"

"And I do ask you not to yell. It took enough to convince them to let you in the house."

"Why am I here?" Snape hissed.

"Because you were injured and I am not getting any response from headquarters," Harry answered. Snape tried to move. "I hope you don't mind that I used muggle methods on your injuries, since I am unable to use magic."

"What are you doing, Potter?" hissed Snape. "Trying to get on my good side? Well, it's not going to work."

"I'm not doing anything, _sir_, but helping. I wasn't going to leave you there! Trust me. I'm getting the worse deal out of this. You won't have to deal with my relatives after you leave. Now, are you hungry? I might be able to get food out of them. If not, you'll have to wait until I can sneak some."

"What are you babbling on about, Potter?" Harry just shook his head and left the room, wondering why he was even bothering to try. On the stairs, he watched the Dursleys, who were currently in front of the television watching some show or other. He was seriously thinking about just sneaking the food, but figured that they would catch him. They always did.

Harry wasn't surprised at all when his uncle became more strict with him after the Order members threatened him. His uncle watched him when he wrote his letters to make sure he didn't say anything against them. Which meant that Harry couldn't use blackmail to get food like he did in previous years. He had to lower himself to begging, which usually only got him in more trouble. Building up his courage, he finished walking down the stairs.

Upstairs, Snape was seething. Potter thought that _he_ was getting to worse end of the deal? In an attempt to get him mind off the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Snape looked around the room. He was surprised at what he saw. The room was quite bare, like a guest room, only less furnished. In fact, the only furniture in the room was the extremely uncomfortable cot that he was laying on.

He focused on the window next. There were ratty curtains partially drawn, and the window was closed. Snape wondered _why_ Potter kept the window closed; it was quite uncomfortable in the room.

Snape was brought out of his musings by yelling down stairs.

"Of course you can't have food, boy! You ate yesterday!"

"The food's not for me!"

"Even worse! It is bad enough we have to spend the money we do on you now! We shouldn't have to feed another one of you freaks!"

For a minute the talk was too quiet to hear, no matter how Snape struggled to listen.

"How dare you! After all we have done for you!" There was a loud crash after that, which caused Snape to flinch. "You keep that up, we'll move you back to the cupboard."

Snape was speechless when Potter limped back into the room three minutes later. Potter didn't say anything, so neither did Snape. Until the room was too stuffy for any sort of comfort.

"Why don't you open the window, Potter?" he sneered.

"They nailed it shut. Hedwig won't be back for a few days."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"She's the only way of I contact with anyone. Unless you have another way to get out of here safely, you're stuck here until then. I'm sure Voldemort knows you're here. The only thing that is keeping them from coming here is the wards." Snape was silent after that, so Harry didn't bother saying anything else. He was sure Snape heard what happened downstairs and that Snape would use it against him the first chance he got. Harry wasn't going to give him anything else.

_But if Snape knows how you are treated here, he might tell someone_, Harry thought, hopefully, but then thought better of it. _He's probably laughing at me right now._ Just then, Harry heard the familiar clicks of the locks on the outside of the door.

"Damn," Harry said.

"What was that?"

"He locked us in."

"What? Why?"

"Probably doesn't want me sneaking food. You don't have your wand, do you?"

"Do you think I would still be here if I did?"

"Of course not."

"Do not use that tone with me," threatened Snape. Harry just shook his head and rubbed his scar. Voldemort was mad; Harry could feel it. All of a sudden, there was a burst of pain, and Harry was on the ground. By habit, he held his tongue. The sharp pain subsided quickly, but his head still pounded.

"What was that, Potter?"

"He's mad," was Harry's answer.

"Clear your mind!" Snape hissed.

"It would help if you told me _how_ to clear my mind," Harry muttered under his breath, not expecting to hear it. Snape's hearing was obviously better than his uncles, though, because he _did_ hear it.

"You cannot be that much of a dunderhead to not even know how to clear your mind, Potter."

"Maybe I am," Harry muttered.

"I realize I am stuck here, Potter, but you will still treat me with respect. You may not be spoiled as I thought you were, but you are still an arrogant brat who cannot follow rules. I will not sympathize."

"I don't need you to, _sir_. I am _fine_," Harry lied. His leg was really starting to hurt after the hit from his uncle and the fall to the floor.

"What calms you, Potter?" Snape finally asked, less malice than before, but it was still present.

"What?"

"I asked what calms you. It is the first step to help clear your mind."

"Er . . . " Harry answered. Nothing in his life was particularly calming. The only time he felt at least partially better was when his uncle would throw him into his cupboard for some punishment of sorts. "My cupboard," he muttered.

"You need to stop muttering, _Potter_, if you want me to help you. The only reason I _am_ helping you is because I have nothing to do at the time." _Obviously_, thought Harry. _And he thinks I _do_ have something to do_?

"My cupboard," Harry answered, a little louder.

"_Your_ cupboard? What . . ."

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said flatly.

"Okay, then," sneered Snape. "What is it about this _. . . cupboard _. . . that is calming?"

"Er . . . it's dark and not big, I guess. It's hard for anything to attack in that small of a space, and it is easy to lose myself in the darkness."

"And when are you in this cupboard?"

"Whenever my uncle sees it fitting," Harry stated harshly, then added a "_sir_" as an afterthought.

"When you clear your mind, think of the darkness, then," Snape said plainly, but left it at that. Not having anything to do, Harry attempted this. He was surprised when the pain of his scar dulled slightly.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said quietly. At first he didn't think Snape heard him. They sat in more silence for another half an hour or so before Snape answered.

"Your welcome," he said flatly. Harry was surprised he got that. "Do you just sit around and do nothing all day, Potter?"

"Unless they let me out and give me chores to do, yes. There is nothing else to do."

"What about read your old school books? I'm sure you know you have much to learn from them yet," sneered Snape.

"I would, but they took all my stuff."

"All of it? Even your wand?"

"Of course. I don't know what's stopping them from burning the stuff. They've threatened to do it enough times."

"How do you know they haven't?"

"Because they would have tied me up and made me _watch_ them burn it."

They stayed in silence for the next hour, both deep in their own worlds. Harry was imagining himself in a made up game of quidditch (against Slytherin), and Snape was wondering how long Potter had lived like this, and _why_ he hadn't said anything. Especially if they don't let him eat. Which would explain why he was so small, even at sixteen. Not wanting to start another conversation with the brat, but not wanting to go crazy from isolation, Snape asked.

"Potter, why do you keep coming back here if you are treated so?"

"My survival is more important than my well being, Professor," Potter said sarcastically.

"Does the headmaster know? Or anyone, for that matter?"

"Of course not."

"How long have they treated you this way?"

"That's a difficult question to answer, _sir_, so to make it simple, I'll just answer, 'as long as I can remember'."

"Why haven't you _told_ anyone?"

"I have, when I was younger."

"Do you honestly believe that the headmaster would keep sending you back here if he knew how you were treated?"

"I honestly don't know what to believe anymore, _Professor_," Harry said, laying down and using his arm as a pillow. If Snape tried to talk to him again, he didn't know, because he somehow fell asleep.

Snape didn't try to talk to him again. Instead, he attempted to get out of the pathetic cot he was sitting up on. He managed, but barely, and made it to the door. Although checking to see if it was locked was pointless, but he didn't have anything else to do. He would have attempted wandless magic, but since he had no where to go, that was also pointless.

Snape turned to look at the brat who fell asleep on the floor. He was having trouble understanding how a child who seemed as neglected, and possibly abused, ended up being as rude and big headed as Potter was. The neglected children he came across were usually a little more soft spoken. And more obedient of those in power. Very unlike Potter. _Potter's always the exception, of course_, Snape sneered in his thoughts.

Starting to hurt even more, Snape went back to the cot and tried, unsuccessfully, to fall back to sleep. Instead, he tried to think of what he could possibly do in the next few days. Unfortunately, most of them included Potter.

Harry woke up the next morning to pounding on the door.

"Get downstairs and make us breakfast, boy! Perhaps, we'll let you and that other freak have some," his uncle boomed from the hallway.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied obediently from the floor and slowly got up. It was hard because his leg was very stiff, but he managed. He left the room without taking a glance at Snape. Really, he forgot about him until he reached the bottom of the stairs, and when he did remember, he groaned inwardly. _Snape's probably going to be harassing me until the second he leaves. Which is, hopefully, very soon_.

Harry started breakfast the second he reached the refrigerator. He didn't bother greeting his relatives; they preferred him silent. Most of the time, he was. As usual, he made eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and pancakes (Dudley and Uncle Vernon like variety in the morning), he set out three places at the table and the milk and orange juice. This morning, though, he set aside two plates next to the stove, one for Snape and one for him.

He didn't bother asking if he could take some food. The mornings he made breakfast were the days he was allowed to eat something. He placed most of the finished food in the center of the table, filled Snape's plate, and put his usual breakfast on his: a few pieces of plain toast, a sausage, a pancake with a little butter, and milk. He didn't know what Snape wanted to drink, so he chose orange juice, not seeing Snape as the milk-drinking type.

When Harry reached his (or rather, Dudley's second bedroom) door, he called that the food was finished and quickly entered, not wanting to get run over by his cousin waddling by. Dudley, although still on a diet, was allowed one big meal a day: breakfast. It was a compromise because Dudley wouldn't stop complaining.

Snape was sitting up and staring out the window when Harry got back into the room. He walked over to the cot and held out the older wizard's plate and glass. He took it and started eating slowly. Harry went back over to his usual corner, the one he slept in the previous night, sat down and started eating, also slowly. He knew that if he didn't, he would get sick.

Harry finished not long after Snape, and he went to collect the dishes. He was about to go back downstairs to wash the breakfast dishes when Snape spoke up.

"Is every morning like this?"

"Every morning I get to eat," Harry snapped, then left. He didn't want to be baited by Snape which, he had a feeling, that was what he was doing. Not wanting to be stuck in the room with the potions master, Harry took his time washing the dishes. Half an hour later, he was back in the small bedroom.

"Why don't they let you eat?" Snape asked once Harry was back in his corner.

"I don't know. They hate me."

"What did you do that caused them to hate you that much," Snape sneered, guessing that Potter didn't do anything, but he didn't want to sound like he cared. Because he didn't; he was bored.

"Wizard blood," Harry answered shortly.

"And how come you don't hate muggles with the way they have treated you, Potter?" Snape asked, curious. It was one of the questions that had bugged him for most of the night. It didn't make sense that he could be treated so terrible by muggles, yet not hold any grudge against them.

"I don't know," Harry answered quietly after a few minutes. The question obviously bugged him, too. "I guess it's one of the reasons that the prophecy . . ." Harry trailed off when he realized what he was saying.

"The prophecy, Potter?" Snape sneered. "What makes you so sure that it points to you? You don't even know the complete prophecy. No one does."

"Yes, I do. Professor Dumbledore told me at the end of the school year," Harry rebutted flatly.

"He actually you? The fool. I'm sure it makes you feel special."

"No, it doesn't," stated Harry.

"Oh, so you aren't happy that there is one more thing that makes you even more famous?"

"I don't like being _famous_!" hissed Harry. "I never wanted to be! I never _did_ anything to be famous. The only memories I have of that night are of my dad telling my mom to take me and of my mom begging for my life. And her screaming! Do you _think_ I enjoy that? I'd give it all up to have a family who actually _care_ about me, _Professor_." Snape didn't answer, so Harry looked out the window, searching for Hedwig.

"So, the prophesy points to you, does it?"

"Unfortunately."

"What does it say? That you have to kill him?"

"Basically."

"And what extra training are you getting?"

"What?"

"Extra training? Are you telling me that besides your pathetic attempts at Occlumency, you are not getting any extra training? You know no more than the average fifth year, and you are expected to kill him?"

"No."

"That's pathetic."

"Looks like we finally agree on something. I think Professor Dumbledore expects me to go ahead with my education and become an auror. Of course, I highly doubt I'll make it to 19 years old."

"And why do you say that?"

"Voldemort isn't just going to _stop_ trying to kill me. He'll keep coming after me until he kills me. Or I kill him. I don't know about you, but I highly doubt I'd be able to beat him in a duel. Not that I think he'll give me back my wand next time. I don't think he's daft enough to make the same mistake twice."

"What do you mean?"

"In the graveyard, the day he was reborn, he gave me my wand back and forced me to duel. I would most likely be dead right now if our wands didn't cancel each other out. Which reminds me, I should get another wand."

"Why?" Snape asked, believing it to be a good idea, but wanting to know Potter's reasons for it.

"Several reasons," was Harry's only answer.

"What . . ."

"Boy! Get down here!" Uncle Vernon yelled from downstairs. Harry hurried down as fast as he could. He was surprised to see Hedwig, with a small parcel tied to her leg, perched on the sofa.

"I want that freak out of my house. You, too, if they'll take you," Vernon said, then left the room. Harry found that in itself off. His uncle never left him alone with Hedwig anymore.

Harry took the parcel and Hedwig up to the room. He handed the parcel to Snape, since it was addressed to him. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was surprised that they knew where he was suppose to be.

"Portkey from the Headmaster," said Snape to himself. "Potter, get your things. If anyone knew I knew of your current living conditions and left you here, Voldemort would be the least of my worries."

"But . . ."

"Do you _want _to stay here?"

"No. Not at all. But . . ."

"But _what_ Potter? Afraid of portkeys?" Snape sneered.

"Yes," Potter whispered.

"The great Harry Potter, afraid of traveling by portkey," said Snape sarcastically.

"Yes, well, the last one _you_ used didn't take you to the Riddle graveyard, cause a death, and the second rise of Voldemort, did it?" Harry snapped.

"Potter, get your things, or I _will_ leave you here and tell everyone how _wonderful_ of a time you are having." Harry just glared at the man and went downstairs to ask for his trunk and owl cage. Fifteen minutes later, after making sure everything was still in there, Harry was back in the room with Snape, staring nervously at the portkey.

"Potter, the headmaster sent it. There is nothing to worry about," Snape said, almost sounding reassuring. Harry shook his head, made sure his wand was on him, and touch the portkey. Snape said the password (Gummy Worms), and Harry felt the familiar tug at his navel.


	2. P2: The Trapped Deceived

**A/N: Okay, I thought more out to this story. I have an idea for one more part, at least, but I don't know when it will get up. Maybe there will be more than three parts, maybe not.**

**Oh, and if you like reading and writing fanfictions, check out my Harry Potter roleplay site, Hogwarts Book Club. More information, and a link, is in my profile. I've been working on that instead of writing (shame on me)**

**Part 2 - The Trapped Deceived**

Harry looked around at the desolate room, confused. Whatever this was, it didn't seem right. He expected Dumbledore's office, headquarters, or the main gate of Hogwarts; not a bare room with only a few blankets and a few buckets. Worried, Harry took a glance at his professor, who was poised, ready for a fight. It was at that moment when Harry decided that he was never going to travel by another portkey, no matter the circumstances.

"Do not use magic, Potter," hissed Snape.

"But how . . ."

"For once in your pathetic life, just listen!" snapped the older wizard, and Harry fell silent. "No matter what, do not use magic."

"Ah, so you know what type of room you are in, Severus. I had a feeling you would," said a voice, sickly pleasant, slowing opening the only door in the room. "Although, it would have been nice of you to let the boy learn on his own. It would have been much more fun." Harry took a side glance at Snape, keeping an eye on Lucius Malfoy. When Snape didn't respond, Malfoy continued.

"I do hope you two enjoy your short stay here. I hear new rooms are being fixed as we speak, and as disappointed as I am to say so, I highly doubt either of you would find the very pleasant," the blonde Death Eater said as if they were talking pleasantries, and Harry instantly realized that the man was supposed to be in Azkaban . . . _why isn't he? _Before Harry could do something stupid, like ask his question out loud, Malfoy was gone, the door shut once again.

"What's going on?" Harry asked instead.

"Shut up, Potter, I am trying to think," snapped the potions master. The room was being monitored, he knew that. Not visually, but audibly, so he had to monitor what he said. He had to keep talking, though, or the Dark Lord's followers might believe that he remembers everything about the room. So, he couldn't tell Potter the plan that was slowly forming in his head. He just had to hope that they boy was smart enough to follow along when the time came.

"Give me your wand, Potter," ordered Snape, and the boy glared at him suspiciously.

"Why?" he questioned, and Snape glared back.

"Because I don't want you to forget that you should not use magic here," stated Snape flatly.

"I won't forget," snapped Harry, tightening the grip on his wand. "And why can't we use magic here? And is it any type of magic?" he questioned.

"Any magic that you cast on someone will rebound on you," Snape answered shortly, hoping the explanation would get the brat to think. He highly doubted it would; Potter was not one for deep thinking. Harry didn't ask any more questions, but reluctantly gave the professor his wand, inwardly hoping the professor was planning something. Deciding that he wanted something to do, he looked around for his trunk, and became suspicious once again when it was not in the room next to the portkey Snape dropped.

"Where are my things?" Harry asked, and Snape looked up from examining the wands he was holding.

"They were probably intercepted during the trip."

"That's possible?" Harry asked, renewing his vow to never travel by portkey.

"If not protected, yes. They most likely set it up to enable them to do so."

"Note to self," Harry said. "Remember: stay away from portkeys," he mumbled under his breath, and Snape barked out a laugh.

"Do you think the floo is any safer?" he asked, but didn't anything more. Harry thought about this, and decided that the floo was probably more dangerous. It connected fireplace to fireplace, and if you say something the wrong way, you end up nowhere near where you wanted to go, Harry thought, remembering his first time traveling by fireplace. After thinking on this for a few more minutes, Harry decided to stay away from Snape. _If this keeps up, I'll be afraid to leave my bed!_

Not knowing what else to do, Harry snatched one of the blankets from the floor, realizing then that he had to go to the bathroom.

"Er . . . I – I have to go," he announced.

"Potter, you are not going anywhere until they come to take us to our new _rooms_," hissed the man.

"No, I mean, I have to go to the _bathroom_."

"Well, use one of the buckets. I'm sure that's what they are there for."

"A bucket? But . . . that will end up stinking!"

"You could always hold it," said Snape, irritated. Was the boy simply that daft? "But the next room might not even have a bucket." That convinced Harry to use the bucket, so he dragged it over to the corner that Snape's back was to and relieved himself. Finishing that, he picked up the blanket again, moving to the corner farthest from Snape and laying down. Turning to face to corner, he curled up in the white blanket to try to fall asleep.

Snape watched the boy from the corner of his eye until the brat was no longer facing him, then turned to the wand and the bit of blanket he ripped off. Wandless transfiguration wasn't something he was good at, but he was sure he studied the boy's wand enough to still do it quickly.

This room was tricky. He couldn't use a wand for magic here; it concentrated the magic too much, but basic wandless magics were usually harmless to the caster. Concentrating hard, he worked until he had an almost-perfect replica of the original wand. The transfiguration took so much out of him, though, that he barely had enough time to do away with the wand before he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

* * *

Severus woke up to a strong, headache forming stench. It took him a few moments to realize it was from the bucket a few feet away. With that realization, he remembered what had happened. Sitting up, a little too quickly, he saw Potter in a corner, wrapped up in one of the white blankets. That was another thing about this room: It was white. Pure white. He remembered being told that these room, and blankets held within them, were charmed to stay that way. It was a way of further inducing a victim to become crazy with less effort. It was rumored that it was how Bellatrix Lestrange became as crazy as she was. She wasn't always such a strong supporter of the Dark Lord.

"It's about time you woke up," said the boy quietly. I went to sleep and woke up five times before you finally did." _Annoying, as usual_, thought Snape.

"What have I told you about respect, Potter?" he sneered.

"It's kind of hard to respect you when it is _your_ fault that we are here. You _insisted_ that the portkey was safe," Harry accused. "How do I know that you are not in on this plot? That you are just trying to get me to trust you or something?"

"Potter, if I was trying to do that, you wouldn't figure it out. Do you see me being nice? And if I was involved, I surely wouldn't be stuck here with a dunderhead like you. I would have left with Malfoy." This shut up Harry for awhile, but he was still suspicious. After all, this entire situation was suspicious.

"It stinks in here," Harry finally said, and Snape gave him a look and didn't respond. Snape was about to ask if anyone came in when Lucius opened the door again, but didn't come in. Harry and Snape both fell into darkness.

* * *

Harry woke and found himself in a very small, white room. It was smaller than his cupboard at the Dursley's, but it was way too white. He found himself still wrapped in the blanket from before.

Not knowing whether he was happy to be away from Snape, or scared that he was alone, Harry turned over on his back and let out a small cry. Something just poked him in the back, something wooden. Attempting to untangle himself from the blanket, which took him a few minutes in such a small place, Harry reached under his shirt and pulled out a wand. _How did I not feel these before?_ he wondered, recognizing it as his own.

Suddenly realizing what Snape was doing, and wondering how the wand wasn't found. He could use magic in this room, he could feel the difference. There were no magical restrictions here. _Torture chamber?_ he briefly thought, then pushed it out of his mind to form a plan. Snape obviously had this planned since he asked for the wand . . . so was Snape searched, but not him, so . . . was the room bugged somehow? With magic, it was surely possible. Which would explain why Snape didn't tell him much. But if he had the wand, what did Snape have?

Deciding not to worry about it now, Harry hoped there was only one person who would come to his call. If there was more . . . well, then, what he was planning wasn't going to work.

"I know you can hear me!" Harry yelled. "Why keep me in this room? Afraid I'd escape?" After a few minutes, Harry was starting to regret his outburst. Any Death Eaters outside the room were probably laughing at him right now. He was relieved, though, to see the door to his right open slowly. Aiming his wand, he hit the guard on the shoulder with _stupify_ before the door was fully opened. The guy now unconscious, Harry crawled over him, then pushed the man into the small room, covering him with the blanket with the hope that it would distract anyone else who came to check up on him.

Closing the door, Harry looked around and wondered what to do now. He had no idea where Snape was, and he tried hard to remember if they ever learned any locator spells. The only spell he knew that could point the way somewhere, pointed north. Not very helpful in this situation.

_What if I modified it, though_, Harry wondered.

"Point me, Snape," he whispered, his wand in his palm. The wand pointed to his left, and Harry hoped that it was pointing toward his professor and not north. Harry redid the spell every minute or so, and with a few twists and turns trying to get to the spot, the wand finally pointed to a door instead of a wall. Looking around for the guard around Snape, he saw none and pulled at the door. It wouldn't open, so he tried Alohmora. When that didn't work, he tried a more complicated unlocking charm, and it actually opened. Pulling the door open, Harry ducked his head inside, and was surprised to find his professor glaring at him.

"That didn't take as long as I thought it would," sneered the professor. Harry didn't say anything. Instead, he backed up to let the man out, then turned quickly when he heard running footsteps.

"Damn," said Snape. "They found out already. You _need_ to become more stealthy. Come on." Harry followed Snape quickly, which wasn't hard. Snape was limping because of his injuries, and he could tell he was having a lot of problems moving. Halfway through the corridor they were in, Snape dragged Harry into a hidden corridor and they kept running. Harry cast a silencing charm to avoid being heard.

Harry didn't pay attention to where they were going; he just followed Snape, hoping that it wasn't some sort of trap. When they finally made it outside, Harry nearly collapsed, but Severus pulled him forward.

"We can't stop here. We must find a place to hide until we have the strength to get farther away," Snape said, almost softly. More reluctant to move than before, he continued to follow Snape. After what seemed like days, Snape took Harry's wand and cast a few weak illusionment charms before pushing Harry into a small cave, mostly hidden by a few bushes.

Falling to the ground, Harry curled up and started to doze off.

"We made it," he sighed before he fell asleep, and Severus wasn't in the mood to point out that they still had a long way to go until they were safe.


	3. P3: The Trapped Cornered

**A/N: There will be at least on more section, but I'm thinking at least two more. After that, I'm not sure.**

**Oh, and if you like reading and writing fanfictions, check out my Harry Potter roleplay site, Hogwarts Book Club. There's more than that, of course. Lots of games, actually. More information, and a link, is in my profile.**

**Part 3 - The Trapped Cornered**

Harry hurt, and all he wanted was to get somewhere to stop the pain. He wondered where Snape was, but he didn't bother looking for the man. It was raining and he hurt; all he cared about was finding some shelter.

Harry was on all fours in the same forest that they ran into two days ago. Two days ago, Harry thought they lost the Death Eaters, but he was obviously wrong. A few hours ago, Snape and Harry were ambushed by a bunch of them. They attacked during the night, so they had cover, but were still hit enough times to do harm, especially with the curses that the Death Eaters were using.

Sometime in the past few hours, Harry had lost his wand. He assumed that one of Voldemort's servants had it, but it meant that he was stuck, with no way to defend himself, and the curses had just kept coming.

After what seemed like an eternity, the curses stopped. This just made him suspicious, and an inner battle started. He wanted to see what was going on, what made it stop, but he wanted to be safe. He attempted getting up, again, but he landed on his stomach, hitting his chin on the ground. Suppressing the urge to groan, Harry painfully got to his hands and knees again, but this time started to crawl forward instead of getting up. Then he saw a light come towards him.

"Come on, Potter," snarled a familiar voice. Not being able to identify the man in his current state, Harry resisted. Or rather, tried to resist. The man was too strong.

Eventually, they came to a building. It was more like a two story, run down cabin, but a building all the same. It started storming about half an hour earlier, and the two wizards were soaking wet and injured.

Inside, the man let go of Harry's upper arm and the boy lost all support of staying up. Cold and on the brink of unconsciousness, he curled up in a ball and tried to ignore the enormous amount of pain he was in.

Harry woke up in more pain than when he passed out, if that was possible. He stayed silent, not remembering where he was. With how much pain he was in, he was probably in a dangerous situation, and he didn't want to alert anyone nearby that he was awake.

He tried to remember how he got there. Slowly, the memories came back. Snape being stuck at Privet Drive, then the portkey, then the attack.

Harry was able to hold his own for a little bit, but you can imagine how hard it would be for a 15 year old boy to stand up to six well-trained Death Eaters. Snape was there for awhile, but they got separated, which was probably worse for Snape, since he had no wand. Harry was disarmed, then the torture started. Fire curses, shocking curses, _crucio_, you name it, he felt it. And was powerless to stop it.

Remembering someone dragged him to where he was now, on a dusty floor in an unknown building, Harry slowly opened his eyes and saw a dark shadow near a low fire. Trying to ignore the pain, Harry watched the figure from the his uncomfortable spot on the floors. Suddenly, it turned around and walked toward him. Harry stiffened and closed his eyes, feinting sleep.

"Potter, wake up," the voice said roughly. Harry didn't answer in his thought of trying to put a name to that voice. "Potter!" the voice said with irritation, and Harry knew who it was. Snape. Opening his eyes, he looked to his professor's face. "Sit up," the man ordered. Once again, Harry tried, but it hurt way too much. He slammed his eyes shut and failed to suppress a groan. Snape sighed.

Suddenly, strong arms were sitting him up. Harry wondered how he could not be hurt after what had happened, but he decided not to think about it. Snape was probably better at hiding and dodging, even when injured.

"Thanks," Harry said weakly.

"You hurt all over?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded, not feeling up to speaking. "Damn. Harry, we can't leave here yet, not with you injured. They probably know we are here and are waiting for us to leave. They will probably try to avoid hitting this building, or even coming in here, because the foundation, as well as the building, is very weak."

"So, it could collapse any time?" Harry whispered, scared to think that instead of being killed by Death Eaters, they were going to be killed by a very old house. It wasn't a very comforting thought.

"If we stay here, it shouldn't be a problem," Snape answered, which didn't make Harry feel any better. "But since I can't leave the building, I cannot find anything to make you feel better. I already searched the house; there's nothing. We will most likely have to hide out here for a few days, but I have found an area where they wouldn't be able to find us."

"Uh," Harry replied, realizing that his clothing was still very wet, so he couldn't have been asleep for long. As wet as he was, though, he was amazingly thirsty. "Water?" Harry questioned.

"Thankfully, the hideout has trapped water from the rain," Snape continued, and Harry realized that it was still raining. "It is dirty, but it will keep us alive." Listening to Snape's voice caused Harry to start falling asleep again. Normally, Snape's voice wouldn't be one you would fall asleep to, but Snape was speaking very softly. Harry couldn't help but think how nice that was.

"Potter," Severus said once he noticed the boy falling back to sleep. He nudged the boy. "Potter," he said a little harsher, but the only response was a quiet 'uh'. Knowing that they must get to the hideout soon in case the Dark Lord's followers decided to enter the house, he went to pick up Potter, and noticed that his too large clothing was still wet and very dirty. His own wasn't much better, but they had mostly dried from all the movement he'd been doing.

He didn't want to strip Potter, but he knew there was little choice. Although it wasn't cold, him body would probably be weak enough that he would get sick, perhaps even go into shock, if he stayed in his wet clothes. And he was unable to make a fire, for several reason: no firewood, so way to start it, and it would give away that they were still here.

Deciding to wait until they were in the hideout, Severus picked Harry up and brought him to the area where there were a few loose floorboards. The space underneath went far enough down that they would be safe from searchers, and with the ladder he found, they'd have no problem getting back out when they needed to.

Of course, the hard part right now was getting Harry down the ladder while asleep. Deciding that Potter needed to be awake, Severus put him and the ground and attempted to wake him up. Slowly, he did.

"Potter, are you awake and well enough to climb down a ladder?" Severus asked, and it took the boy a few moments before nodded his head in consent.

Slowly, Harry was able to move toward the ladder. He still hurt, but he felt strong enough to climb down. He wondered how they got to this place, but figured Snape must have carried him here. That didn't do much for his nerves, though. The thought of Snape carrying him was embarrassing.

Amazingly to both Harry and Snape, Harry made it to the bottom of the ladder, but he was even more tired than he was before. Not bothering to wait for Snape to come down, he laid on the damp floor and fell asleep immediately.

Severus climbed down the ladder. He wanted to replace the floor boards, but he would have to move the ladder down slightly to the floor support board to do so. Once done and he was satisfied that no one would notice the boards unless they expected it, Severus folded the ladder up and place in on the ground, making sure not to hit Potter, who was once again sleeping.

Deciding that now was a good time to get the boy out of the wet clothes, he stripped him of everything but his underwear, and then Severus wrapped him up in his light cloak, which was now completely dry. Making sure Potter didn't have a fever, Severus hung up the wet clothes as best as he could, then waited for the boy to wake up.

There was a lot he wanted to ask him, actually. Now that he knew the boy wasn't spoiled, he wanted to know why he was treated like he was. There had to be more reason besides 'wizard blood'. He knew he had to report what he saw to the Headmaster once they got back. If they got back. It was very likely that they wouldn't make it out alive.

Severus didn't know how long it was, at least half a day, but Harry slowly started to wake again.

He felt better . . . that much he knew. Once again, the memories of the past few days came back to him, and he opened his eyes to find Snape watching him.

"Are you feeling better?" Snape asked, and Harry tried to nod, which was quite hard while laying on the floor.

"Yeah," he decided to answer, and Snape nodded.

"Thirsty?" the man asked, and Harry sat up slowly and nodded. Snape seemed almost . . . uncomfortable. _Of course_, thought Harry. _Who would be comfortable here. _Sitting up, though, he noticed he was wrapped in a black cloak, and that he only had underwear underneath. Blushing, Harry looked around for where his clothes may be.

"Your clothes should be dry by now," Snape said, getting up and walking over to large rock. He picked up the clothes and walked them over to Harry. "You probably would have gotten sick if you continued to wear wet clothes." Harry nodded his understanding, and quickly put on the dry, but stiff, clothes.

"Er . . . where's the water?" Harry asked, finding his voice raspy. He must have screamed a lot during the 'meeting' with the Death Eaters. Snape pointed to a spot on the ground that served to hold some water. Thirsty, he avoided looking at the dirty water and drank as much as he could. After he finished, he sat down and leaned against a wall. He didn't know why he felt so tired after all the sleeping he did. It felt like it was all he did now.

"Potter," Snape started, and Harry looked up. Snape didn't continue right away. In fact, he looked like he was at war with himself, which was very unusual, since Snape was pretty good at hiding his emotions. That entire Occlumency thing. "Did they treat you like that long?" the man finally asked vaguely, and Harry looked at him weird.

"Who?" Harry asked. If it was Dursley's, he didn't really want to talk about it. That, and he didn't know why Snape would want to know, or why he cared. It could be used against him.

Snape never did use anything against him in public, though. Nothing that he learned about him in Occlumency, anyway, which was good. Actually, now that he thought about it, he couldn't figure out how Snape _didn't_ know that he wasn't spoiled. Harry was sure that the memories Snape saw proved otherwise.

"Your relatives. Have they abused and neglected you long?" Snape asked as if he was talking to an especially dumb person.

"They don't abuse me!" Harry said, and would have yelled it if he had the voice.

"Quiet!" hissed Snape. "Someone might hear us. We don't want them to know we are here. And last time I checked, refusing to feed a child, hitting them, and locking them in the room for no apparent reason _is_ abuse."

"I didn't get as much food as I wanted, no, but . . ."

"Potter, staving a child is illegal. That is actually probably why you were so small. In fact," hissed the older man. "That's probably why you are still one of the shorter boys in your class. There are third years who are bigger than you."

"Hey! I can't help being short!" Harry said, offended. If he knew that Snape was going to do this, he would have just gone back to sleep until the Death Eaters left or found them.

"Of course _you_ can't, Potter. Why are you defending them?"

"I'm not!" Harry said. "I just don't see the point in bothering with it. What, you expect me to feel sorry for myself? Why? Lot of good that would have done me, because I have a lot of reason to feel sorry for myself."

"Potter, if you decided to tell someone sooner that starve you and physically harm you, you would never have gone back."

"Uncle Vernon never hit me before. I'm sure he didn't mean to, he just . . . pushed me a little too hard toward the stairs," Harry said, only somewhat believing what he just said.

"You are in denial, Potter. As much as I'm _glad_ that you refuse to feel sorry for yourself, there is no reason for you suffer unnecessarily. You are too much a martyr."

"They were never that bad before. Well, okay a few times when I was younger, when accidental magic went to far, but never on a normal basic," Harry said weakly. He understood everything that Snape was saying, but . . . maybe he was hoping that if he was good enough, the Dursleys would understand that he wasn't a bad person because he was a wizard. After all, they _were_ the only family he had left.

"Even once is bad enough," Snape stated. He heard a noise from above. "Shh!" he said as quietly as he could.

"Find anything?" Harry heard from above. _Shoot!_ Harry thought as they walked on top of the loose floor boards.

"Nothing. They must have escaped somehow. Do they have another wand?"

"They must. Damn Snape. He may be a traitor, but he sure is smart."

"Then are you sure there is no one here? If he is smart enough to hide . . ."

"We searched every inch of this house. Nothing."

"The Dark Lord is going to be mad."

"They are injured, they couldn't have gone far. We'll comb the woods. If we find nothing, then we will see the Dark Lord." A few minutes later, when Severus was sure that they left, the man walked over to where Potter was sitting.

"We will estimate an hour, then we will leave. It won't take long to search this area of the woods, and I am sure I know which way it is to the nearest village. It is about half an hour walk from here. Of course, in the state we are in, it will take a bit longer." Harry nodded, then waited until Severus said it was time to go.

Hopefully, they wouldn't have much trouble getting to the village.


	4. P4: The Trapped Fall

**A/N: Finally, another part. My mind was as trapped as these two are when it came to this story, but I finally thought of _something_, as cliché as it may seem. Kinda. **

**I'm setting it up for a sequel, but I don't know if I would actually have time to write it. I would also have to come up with a decent plot for that to happen.**

**Part 4 - The Trapped Fall**

"Potter, wake up," Snape whispered, shaking Harry gently to wake up him up.

"They gone?" Harry asked, still partially asleep.

"Possibly. Most likely. They searched the house again, so I suppose they ran out of places in the forest to look. It has been far past an hour, I am sure," Snape replied, and Harry's stomach was the one that answered, very loudly. "Hopefully we'll get to the village soon and get food," he continued, standing up straight and holding out a hand for the young wizard to get up.

"You climb first," Severus said. "Be careful and watch for any movements. Stop if you see anything, and do not continue until you are sure no one is there."

"Why me first?" Harry asked.

"Because I do not want falling and alerting anyone we are here."

"I won't fall!" Harry argued, trying to be quiet yet angry at the same time. It didn't work so well, and he ended up being louder than he intended.

"Quiet!" Snape snapped almost silently, and Harry wondered how he could do that.

"Sorry. I'm going," he replied, swaying slightly when he turned toward the ladder, Snape catching him.

"Do you see why I need to be below you?" Snape whispered in his ear. _Yeah, yeah_, Harry thought, not bothering to answer the professor. Instead, he just concentrated on getting himself up the ladder without letting his weak grip get too loose.

Thankfully, he and Snape made it up without too many issues, and Harry waited on the floor while Snape went to check if the coast was clear.

A big of time longer, Harry trying to not fall back to sleep, Snape had not yet come back and Harry was starting to get worried. Had the Death Eaters gotten him? Snape told him not to move, but if they got Snape, it was only a matter of time before they found him. Making a last second decision, Harry carefully crawled to the closed door that led to the outside, making sure to make as little noise as possible.

It was raining harder than he thought, and although he wasn't looking forward to be sopping wet again, he checked to make sure he didn't see anyone moving before crawling out the door. _I have less chance of being seen by crawling_, he told himself, but he knew it was mostly because he was still so dizzy.

For the lack of any other direction to start searching, Harry went in the directions toward the woods for two reason. One, it was cover. Two, there was a lone footprint barely touched by the rain because of the roof that was pointing in that direction. He just hoped it wasn't a trap.

Not very far into the woods was an opening that had a _very _steep decline and Harry was about to go back into the woods and go around the pit when he saw of flash of light out of the corner of his eyes. Knowing he was going to regret it, but figured that if it was Snape who made that flash of light he had to help (of course, it was always possible that he imagined it), he laid on his stomach and slowly made his way down the muddy, slippery slope.

He nearly started laughing when he reached the lowest point. Not only was his entire front covered with mud, but there was . . . he guess a cave. Or some sort of pit. He heard rustling from below.

"Professor?" he asked into the opening, trying to position himself to see inside better without falling in. As soon as he talked, the rustling and slight splashing stopped, and he knew his instinct was right. "Professor? What happened?"

"What are you doing here, Potter?" he heard from the darkness below.

"Looking for you. What happened?"

"Nothing," Harry heard after a small pause. "Go back to the house – be careful! – and stay there until I come back for you."

"But . . ."

"No. Go, Potter. Now."

Sighing, Harry got to his knees so he could turn around and head back up the incline. Going up was harder than he anticipated, though, since he couldn't slide up on his stomach, and the water poring down from the sky and draining from the top of the hill was enough to keep him from keeping a grip on the slick ground, and he slipped. Fast.

"Ah!" he let out a strangled cry, trying to keep quiet, but he was too surprised to stop the sound coming from his mouth entirely. Before he could entirely comprehend what happened, he landed with a _splash_ on the ground below. Apparently, the water wasn't that deep.

"Potter," Snape growled, standing Harry up to keep him from drowning and walking him over to what appeared to be the only dry ground from what he could see. Because of the rain, there wasn't much light to go by.

"Ow," was Harry's reply as Snape sat him down on the rock. It was still a spot where the rain was reaching, but it wasn't in the pool. "So, how do we get out of here?" Snape didn't answer, and Harry saw that he was playing with something. "What's that?"

"Flashlight."

"It _would_ be nice to have some light," Harry commented, hinting that the man should turn it on.

"It doesn't always work," Snape snapped, and Harry had to roll his eyes. He was glad that the professor wouldn't be able to see that.

"Okay, then. But really, now do we get out of here?"

"I don't know," Snape mumbled, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh.

"You fell down here just like I did, huh? Well, probably not just like I did, as I was trying to go _up_ and you were probably going down, but . . ."

"Shut up, Potter," Snape snapped, but Harry wasn't in the mood to shut up. He _was_ being quiet. He was whispering, after all.

"Can we get out of the rain, though? I think I'm wet enough . . ."

"The water gets deeper. Without light, going further into the cave would be dangerous."

"Where did you get the flashlight? Was there another?"

"The bag is behind you. Do not drop it into the water, I am trying to dry it's contents."

"Yeah, like that's going to work on this spot," Harry murmured to himself, reaching for the bag blindly, only to realize that the spot on the rock where the bag was didn't not feel rain. Sighing, he worked on positioning himself in the 'dry' spot without dropping the bag into the slowly growing pool.

Blindly, he dug through the wet bag until he felt a plastic container. Hoping it was food, he took it out. After a few minutes he realized that the top screwed off, and inside he found . . . batteries.

"Professor?" Harry asked quietly, expecting an answer immediately. When he didn't hear any response but distant splashing, he started to become nervous. _I hope he doesn't plan on leaving me here_, he thought, but tried to push that thought away. Snape would want the bag, right? There were batteries. No food, he noticed, after closing the waterproof battery container and digging through the bag more, but batteries would help, if Snape hadn't tried them already.

_Probably had. It isn't that daft, is he?_ he asked himself, but then realized that Snape was probably wizard raised and didn't know details like that.

Harry was relived when the light splashing came closer and a shadow of a body appeared in the darkness. Or, at least, he hoped it was Snape. Just for safety, he kept quiet.

"Faring, Potter?" a voice that was obviously Snape's asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Did you try the other batteries for the flashlight?"

"There were no other batteries," Snape snapped, and Harry held up the container.

"Right here. And the container isn't letting any water in, so they should work," Harry replied airily, happy to have one up on Snape. That didn't happen often. Snape didn't answer, just stalked over to the rock (as well as one could in knee-deep water) and took the container from Harry. After a minute, he had it open and the new batteries in the medium-sized flashlight. It turned on, a little too bright for both their eyes, and Snape turned it off immediately.

"Well, that worked," Harry said. Snape put the container in the bag, put the bag on his back, and nearly dragged Harry off the rock. "Hey!"

"Now that we have light, we need to go. We are more likely to be caught here than further in the cave."

"But you said it gets deeper," Harry argued, but Snape grabbed his hand and dragged him, not caring. After a bit of slow moving to avoid the cave walls, Snape turned on the light.

"Now, are you going to follow, or am I going to have to drag you through?" Snape asked flatly, with a very dangerous look that was enhanced by the shadows caused by the flashlight.

"I'll follow," Harry answered, wondering for the first time if Snape was actually someone who had a charm to look like Snape on them. It was dark enough, even with the flashlight, to be able to tell.

"What happened at the Dursleys?" Harry asked, causing Snape to stop his progression into deeper water. Snape didn't reply, just glared. "I need to know you are you," he explained, and Snape sighed.

"Your uncle hurt you, refused you food, and I told you to come with me," the dark man answered flatly, and Harry nodded. "Now _come_. I would like to get out of these wet caves soon."

Both Harry and Snape waded in silence. The water rarely got above Harry waist. Snape would keep the flashlight on and usually pointing in the direction they were going, but every so often he would look around, which Harry hated. Especially when he was ahead of the man.

Harry stopped walking in front of Snape when he suddenly went underwater because the depth went about a foot deeper than he was tall without warning.

"Ahmm," Harry said as he unexpectedly went underwater. He could swim, mostly, but he was glad when Snape grabbed him and pulled him above the water.

Now standing on his feet, his eyes followed the direction of the flashlight, and he saw that where the water was deeper was a large cavern. Much larger than the path they were following, anyway. But what caught Harry's attention was that, on the other side, was raised ground. _Dry_ ground.

"Let's go!" Harry exclaimed. "Then we can take a break before we get any further."

"We don't know how deep the water is," Snape said flatly. "You almost just drowned."

"Because I didn't know it was going to get _deeper_," Harry answered obviously. "I can swim."

"With how weak you are now?" the potions master asked dangerously, but almost sympathetic. "I believe the only thing keeping you standing is the water. Stay here, _please_, and I will see if I can find the shallowest path."

"But . . ."

"Why must you constantly argue?" Snape asked, exasperated. "Stay here."

Snape didn't bother waiting for Harry to reply before he slowly walked out, staying near the wall. After a bit, Harry grew bored of watching him, in addition to still being dizzy, so he leaned again the sharp cave wall.

After a long time, Harry was startled by Snape appearing around the corner.

"There is a ledge around that is shallow enough we can walk," Snape said, holding out his hand for Harry to grab on to. "Come along." Harry didn't bother taking Snape's hand.

"I'm fine," he insisted, and Snape turned around and began walking.

"Just follow and be careful," he replied harshly. He made it around the large cavern only falling in once, and they got to the ledge.

Unfortunately, it was about five feet up, and 'ramp' to get up was steep.

"Right," Harry said, looking at it.

"Just climb," Snape ordered, and Harry obeyed. Climbing, though, he noticed that it was easier than he expected because there were notches that acted like a ladder.

"You know, I think people lived here, once," Harry commented, to fill the silence. He had enough silence for awhile. Snape didn't answer, though, and when he got to the top of the ledge, he crawled in further and curled up near the wall. Somehow, the air flowing through felt warmer here, and the ground was (finally) dry.

"Cloths off, Potter. You'll get sicker if you body cools down too much," Snape said, starting to undress himself and squeezing as much water out of them as possible before laying them on the ground. The breeze, although warm, cooled him down far more than wanted. When Harry didn't answer, he found the boy sleeping. Undressing him (once again), he did the same with Harry's clothes and decided that sleeping sounded like a good idea. Especially since the chances of any Death Eaters finding them here seemed especially low.

They woke up an undetermined amount of time later, Snape because he was hungry, and Harry because Snape was shining a flashlight in his face.

"We should get going soon," Snape said.

"Mmm," Harry replied.

"Our clothes are dry," Snape said, throwing Harry his. "And warm from the air."

"Mmm," Harry said again, opting to sit up so he could put them on. Snape was just finishing put his on.

"Sn-Professor?" Harry asked.

"Potter?"

"If I'm not going back to the Dursley's, where _will_ I go? I really don't want to go back to Headquarters, and Dumbledore says that it's not safe enough to stay at the Burrow for more than a week . . . and I can stay at Hogwarts . . ."

Snape didn't answer for the longest time. They both sat on the rough stone ground, feeling the best they've probably felt in . . . however long they've been in hiding. Snape was estimating two days, but he wasn't entire sure how long they were asleep. They were dry and warm, and not thirsty at all since the water in the cave was mostly clean. Now all they had to work on was the pain, feeling ill, and the hunger.

"You . . ." Snape started after much silence, after Harry had forgotten he had asked a question. "You may stay with me, if you wish. I have a home separate than I have been living in that is well protected."

Harry, stunned, didn't answer. He didn't know what to say.

"We should get going. Hopefully the gave brought us closer to the village," Snape said, changing the subject and breaking the awkward silence.

Quietly and slowly, the two made their way down the dry tunnel to find a way out in a silence slightly different than the one they had been in for the 'adventure' so far.


	5. P5: The Trapped Caged

**A/N: I have this more or less planned out, and it will end up being 10 chapters. So, halfway through! Ignore any errors (unless they have to do with plot, because then I'd like to know). They will be dealt with later.**

**Also, as I am too short on time to edit my stories as well as I would like to, I am looking for a beta who is familiar with my work and writing style. Said beta(s) will be helping me go through all old chapters/stories and new chapters and stories. I wish to go through some of my older work and work out inconsistencies, errors, so on . . . I am willing to have more than one beta, if necessary because I've written (and am continuing to write) quite a bit. Please PM/E-Mail me with an example or explanation of your beta-ing style if you are interested.**

**Part 5 - The Trapped Caged**

"Stop," Snape said, and Harry gladly obeyed. It felt as if they had been walking forever. Instead of bothering to ask Snape why they stopped, he sat down and leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Snape sighed after a bit. "Stand up, Potter," he said. "I believe I found our way out."

Groaning, Harry stood up slowly before walking over to the wall Snape was near. Now up close, he could see large notches similar to the ones on the ramp forever-ago back, forming a ladder. Looking up, Harry felt a cool breeze and he saw several bright stars. Thankfully, it was no longer raining.

"Well, start climbing!" Snape said, and Harry started up.

"You know, this doesn't explain where the warm breeze was coming from," Harry stated. "But I think this ladder _does_ prove someone used to live in these caves!"

"Believe what you want, Potter, but I would prefer it you kept those beliefs to yourself unless they would prove useful in any manner," Snape replied, right behind Harry and ready to catch him if he lost his grip. Harry continued up the 'ladder' as quickly as he could. As soon as he was out and on the damp grass, he watched Snape climb out gracefully (or, at least more gracefully than he thought he was himself).

"_Or_," Harry continued from before. "There could still be people living there. Or they do tours or something."

"Most likely tours," Snape snapped, and Harry decided to stop bugging the man. As it was, he had absolutely _no_ idea where they were and figured Snape would be able to find their way back a little easier. After Snape spent a minute or so glaring at Harry, probably making sure he had no stupid comments, he started walking.

"Do you know where we are going?" Harry asked, feeling unable to be quiet. Aside from the stars and the moon, it was dark outside, and although he was right next to him, he felt better hearing the man's voice.

"I am making a guess," Snape said without any cruelness.

"Okay," he answered slowly, unsure how Snape could make a guess like that so quickly.

They walked for a bit, probably about an hour, before they saw any artificial lights, and Harry started to get excited.

"Is that the village?" he asked.

"I'm assuming so," Snape answered, and picked up speed slightly. Harry grabbed Snape's arm when he realized he couldn't keep up in his current condition. It took Snape a second to realize why, but then the realization shown in his eyes, and Harry didn't have to explain.

As they got closer to the village, Snape started feeling uneasy. There were too many moving lights for a village this size. The darkness aside from the lights was complete, so he was sure it was well into the night, so there must have been something going on.

Ten minutes later, it was very clear what the matter was.

"Stop!" they heard a voice say, and they saw many shadows forming a circle around them. "Put your hands above your head and keep them there, and drop to your knees!" the man said, and they heard guns around them getting ready to shoot. Snape dropped to his knees, and Harry followed suit, wondering what was going on. Once they were done with their hands raised, the people around them started moving closer, now with bright flashlights.

"Those the guys?" One of them asked.

"Fit the descriptions," another answered, but the lights were too bright for them to be able to see past them.

"You two are arrested for the murder of two persons last night," they heard, and Harry was about to stand to protest, but Snape stopped him.

"There must be some mistake. We've been lost for . . . I am unsure how long. At least a few days. We were trapped in the caves . . ."

None of them answered, but roughly handcuffed and searched them and walked them away, toward the village.

"Don't fight," Harry heard Snape say. "We will get this figured out." Before Harry could answer, the men who were leading him pushed him further, causing his leg to go out and fall.

"Up," one of the men hissed, dragging him up.

"He's hurt," Snape offered, but no one listen to him. _I'm sure Snape's hurt, too_, Harry thought to himself, but so far, the man hadn't shown many problems aside from a little limping.

Soon, they arrived at the village and were lead to a small building (actually, all the buildings were small, even the one marked 'library'. They passed a few houses that were larger) labeled "Police", up the few stairs, and into the same cell. Actually, they were pushed, and although Snape was able to stay standing, Harry fell and hit his head on the so-called 'bed'. Snape, to Harry's amusement when his head wasn't spinning anymore, was at his side immediately, supporting him and laying him down on the bed.

"Are you okay?" Snape asked, and Harry shook his head slightly. Not enough to cause his head to go spinning again.

"What happened?"

"Apparently, we have been accused of murder," Snape asked, and Harry glared at him for speaking the obvious.

"Of _who_ though? We were in the _cave_."

"Perhaps the they are willing to stoop low enough, for them, anyway, to associate with muggles."

"They?" Harry asked before he realize the his professor must have been talking about the Death Eaters. "Never mind. But _why_?"

"They couldn't cover enough ground? They didn't want to be in the village for longer than necessary? I do not know."

"Well, then we need to get out of here!" Harry whispered in Snape's ear, so they police wouldn't be able to hear, and Snape gave him a look that clearly stated, 'duh'.

"Apparation?" Harry asked quietly.

"Can't risk it," Snape answered, mouthing the word magic, and Harry nodded.

"Good news for you two, I suppose," a cop said from outside the cell. "The police that are after you aren't going to be here for two days. You two would be separated if we had more than one cell. I would try anything. There are cameras on you, and you are being watched constantly," the man said before leaving their sight of view, then the lights went out with a 'click'.

"They have cameras, yet they turned off the lights?" Harry asked quietly, still laying down, then realized there was only one bed. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"I'm not," Snape replied flatly. "You need to, though. I am sure you are already sick enough . . ."

"I feel fine," Harry answered. "Well, except for the fact every part of my body hurts. But I _do_ feel better than before, but . . ."

"They most likely used spells that had long lasting side effects," Snape said quietly, so close that it should have been uncomfortable, but surprisingly, he was disappointed when Snape walked away again. Trying to push that feeling away, Harry decided to follow Snape's advice and get to sleep.

_Much luck this is_, Harry thought to himself an hour or so later. Unable to fall asleep, Harry decided to try to find Snape in order to talk. He learned before that when Snape talked soft and gently enough, it was quite soothing. Slowly sitting up, he got to the floor and started crawling along the walls and ran head on into a sitting Snape across the room.

"What are you doing up?" Snape asked, sounding more concerned (yet distant), but slightly irritated, Harry learned against the wall before answering.

"Can't sleep," he responded. "I thought we were finally going to be able to get home, safely. 'M also starving." His stomach, deciding on that moment to speak up, backed up his statement.

"Hopefully, they'll give us food in the morning."

"They would have to, wouldn't they? I mean, they can't let us _starve_. When was the last time we've eaten, anyway?"

"Would you stop talking about food?" Snape snapped.

"Sorry. I guess I should be used to it, as I never really got a lot food at the Dursleys. But at least I got _some_," he continued.

"Potter," Snape warned, finally shutting Harry up. They sat in silence for awhile, before Harry, once again, decided he hated the silence and decided to speak up.

"Did you really mean that I can live with you?" Harry asked. The silence following was awkward, and he briefly wished he didn't asked. He had to know, though.

"Despite the fact that you are a very annoying child, yes, you may live with me if you choose. There would, of course, be a few chores and I would expect you do spend time studying for your NEWTS, but . . ."

"No starving me?" Harry asked.

"Correct, in addition to other things."

Another silence, less awkward but still uncomfortable, settled between the two.

"Potter . . ." Snape started, but trailed off.

"What?"

"Did your relatives ever beat you?"

"Like what happened at the house?" Harry asked, wondering what brought on this topic.

"Or worse," Snape said flatly, and Harry tried to shrug nonchalantly, despite the fact that Snape probably couldn't see him in the extremely dim light.

"Not really," he answered, doing his best to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. "Ever so often, my uncle would drink a little too much and if I got in the way . . . but rarely anything more than throwing me roughly into my cupboard or something." Snape sighed silently but Harry could feel it from the closeness of the man.

"Are you trying to make it sound better than it was, for whatever reason you think it necessary it that small brain of yours, or was it actually not that bad?" Snape asked roughly, irritated and slightly angry that he couldn't get a straight answer from the boy without forcing it out of him.

"They never really touch me much," Harry said after a bit, subdued from his previous false enthusiasm. "They didn't said I didn't deserve it to be held or comforted for any reason. I was a freak, so therefore I wasn't good enough. Even when I was younger. I would have nightmares of . . . what I suppose was my parents death, but all I remember is a green light. I would wake up crying and go to them, because that's what Dudley would do, but they just told me to go away. After a few times, they started to lock me in until I promised not to bug them anymore."

"In . . . the cupboard?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded. Snape must have seen, though, because he didn't ask for clarification again.

"How did they treat you when you were sick?"

"Same," Harry said, shrugging again, realizing he was tired again. He didn't noticed Snape made a move toward him until he felt the potion master's hand on his forehead.

"Fever," he said to himself. "Go to sleep, Potter," he said a little softer, moving closer and allowing Harry to lean on him. Harry, through his fever and the dark, blushed unknowingly.

"You don't have to . . ."

"Just be quiet and sleep," Snape snapped. "I am trying to think." Harry gave a small giggle before allowing himself to lean further on the man and slowly fall into an amazingly comfortable sleep.

SSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssss

"Wake up," a cop, a female this time, said. Harry, stiff from the way he slept, tried to sit up straight, but ended up being stood up by Snape and walked, again, to the bed and sat down. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, sounding more concerned than rude like the men were during the night.

"He's ill. And hurt," Snape answered, and Harry gave him a small glare.

"I can talk for myself," Harry argued weakly, but looked hopeful when he saw that she had a tray full of food. The woman looked around before taking out her keys and letting herself in, locking the barred door behind her.

"Are you sure you want to lock yourself, with your keys, in with you?" Snape asked, almost rudely.

"I don't believe you two killed anyone," she said, honestly, and Snape started watching carefully for anyone else coming. "No one else should arrive for a few hours. It's too early."

"Why don't you believe we killed . . . those people?" Snape asked hesitantly. Harry wanted to suspect her as a Death Eater, to somehow get them to come along freely, but he couldn't concentrate on anything but the wondrous smelling food a few feet away. She must have noticed both captives staring hungrily at the food, because she set it down in the middle of the hard bed. Snape sat down and they both started eating the food greedily, not bothering to think that the food might have something unwanted in it. They were starving.

"When was the last time you two ate?" she asked once they started slowly down. Snape paused before answering.

"What is the date?" he asked.

"July 31st," she answered, and Harry nearly started choking because he burst out laughing. "What's wrong with him?"

"Fever," Snape answered. "It has been about three days for me, four days for him, I believe." Harry had opted to ignore the conversation in order to eat more, despite knowing that it would only make him sick soon, so Snape didn't bother waiting for a confirmation.

"What's going on? They guys have been acting weird since those . . . strangers reported the murders. They haven't been themselves. Trust me, I know. They've never treated any criminals like they treated you. Even that crazy old man who started killing several of the kids in the area. They have always taken their job very seriously. Something about this entire situation seems . . . odd."

"It would," Snape answered, stopping Harry from eating more. "You'll get sick, Potter, if you continue to eat at your rate. Wait a few minutes," he told him, getting a death glare from the young adult. "And you are correct, although I doubt you'll take our word for it. We have been lost in a nearby cave for a couple days and before that, we have been . . . hunted, for the lack of any better word, by those who wish to kill us."

"Why?" the cop asked.

"Does that matter?" Snape almost snapped, but Harry could tell he was doing his best to hold back.

"Do you want my help? If you convince me within the next hour, that would give me enough time to think of a way to get you two out of here without it looking suspicious."

Snape looked at her carefully, and Harry couldn't help but think that he was performing legilimancy on her.

"Do you believe in magic?" he finally asked, and Harry looked at him, wondering what he was getting at. She was _muggle_, so the chances were that she didn't.

"You mean, like real magic? Not card trick magic?" she asked.

"Correct," Snape said.

"I don't know. I know some people believe in it. They have those books in stores . . ."

"Books?" Snape asked.

"I think she's talking about muggle magic," Harry answered. "They call it natural magic, or Wicca, or something like that. I've seen some in bookstores, but I could never look at them because I was always with the Dursleys. I don't know if it really works, though. If it does, it's not like our magic."

"Ah," Snape replied. "Maybe, I do not know." Harry rolled his eyes. He pretty much told her, in shorter form, what he just said. "But I mean _real_ magic. Transfiguration of objects, potions, curses . . ."

"I don't know. Are you saying that . . . the guys have some sort of curse on them?"

"If my guess is right, they might be under Imperious. I would not expect those that are after us to cooperate with muggles."

"Muggles?"

"Non magical people. I and Potter here are wizards. I am a professor at the school, in addition for working as a spy for the Light Side. The Dark Lord recently found this out, though, and they now wish me dead."

"Light side? Dark Lord? What is this, Star Wars?"

"What?" Snape asked.

"Film," Harry explained. "No, it's not."

"So they want you dead," she said to Snape. "What about you?" she asked, changing her attention to Harry, who had decided to eat again.

"Voldemort, the 'Dark Lord', has wanted me dead since I was one," Harry stated plainly, then got irritated at how slow this was going, and decided to take over explaining. "Basically, my professor showed up at my uncle and aunt's house and convinced them to let him come in. Someone, who we thought was a good person, sent a portkey, which allows very quick travel, to us, we used it, and ended up being captured by Voldemort. We managed to get away after a bit, then we found our way here, only to get captured again."

"What will happen when they come to collect you?" she asked, and Harry could tell that, on some level, she believed them.

"Probably kill everyone else involved. I suggest you get as many out of the village as possible before they arrive," Snape replied flatly, and she nodded.

"Look, I saw some things that night those strangers came. Stuff that wasn't normal. I'm not sure why, exactly, but I believe you." She looked at Harry, then back to Snape. "I'm going to get you two a few things. Medicine, clean clothes, and . . . a few other things. You are far from where you are going?"

"Where _are_ we?" Harry asked.

"You don't know? Northern Africa. The desert is about 40 miles north of here, but there aren't a lot of natives here. It's too small a community. I'm surprised it's lasted this long, actually. Is that far?"

"Too far by the type of travel I'd prefer," Snape said, meaning apparation. "But we will try. It should get us partway there."

"Okay. I'll get a bunch of supplies. There's a stock here in the back."

"Thank you," Snape and Harry said together, and the cop left, leaving the cell unlocked. She was back in a few minutes with a sack and clothes.

"These should fit. Don't worry about the camera. I've put in a defective tape, so it won't work." She left to allow the two to get dressed. Harry's clothes were a little too big, but much better than what he was wearing before, and Snape's was pretty close to fitting. After they were dressed, Snape made Harry take a bit of a medicine that was labeled for fevers (witch tasted horrible), and they left the cell.

"Thank you," Snape said again. "I suggest you leave, though."

"I am. I'll warn a few people and tell them to spread the word, but I doubt they'll listen. I'll come back in three days and contact authorities if necessary."

"What will you tell them?" Harry asked, earning a glare from Snape, and Harry shrugged.

"That you kidnaped me, if necessary, but . . . I have a feeling that won't be, will it?"

"Most likely not. We must be going." Snape pulled Harry away (as he said goodbye) from the view of any visible cameras and they disapparated away with a pop.


	6. P6: The Trapped Stranded

**A/N: Read on!**

**Part 6 - The Trapped Stranded**

Harry crawled out of the water and onto the beach slowly, Snape right behind him. Once again, they found themselves in an unknown location, but this time it was purely their fault. Actually, it was Snape's fault, as it was his choice to apparate. Or so Harry told himself.

"Get up, Potter," Snape snapped as Harry decided to lay in the sand, exhausted from the swim from their landing point: ten minutes from shore. "We are too vulnerable out here."

Harry groaned as his professor dragged him to his feet, and walked slowly toward the line of trees. When they got there, though, Snape still refused to let Harry sit down.

"Why not?" Harry asked, put off by the fact that he couldn't sit down for even five minutes. "I'm really tired now. And hungry . . ."

"Hopefully," Snape sneered, "the food isn't soaked. I'm not sure what she gave us. But we need to find out where we are before we do anything else."

"But we should be safe now, right? From the Death Eaters?"

"We should be. No one knows we disapparated, except perhaps that muggle, and she wouldn't know what it is to begin with. She should be gone before the Death Eaters get back. Unless the other policemen have a way of contacting them before they are due back, no one after us should be able to start looking."

"But when they do?" Harry asked, looking around cautiously, half expecting Death Eaters to pop in and attack them.

"Then we will be as far away from here as possible," Snape answered. "I was expecting to land in the water because of our distance from Scotland, but–."

"Why didn't we just apparate to the island, instead of swimming?" Harry interrupted, wondering how well Snape's logic was working at the moment.

"_Because_," Snape explain, irritated, "apparating the distance I did, with an extra person, no less, took most of my energy. Swimming was far less tiring than trying to apparate again."

"Oh. So, I suppose we won't be apparating out of here anytime soon?"

"We won't be, unless the situation calls for it. What do you think would happen if we apparated from an unknown location to another unknown location because our target was too far away?"

"We get splinched?" Harry guessed, having no clue. It wasn't as if he had apparating lessons yet.

"No," the dark haired man replied flatly. "We have a good chance of landing in front of muggles, or, in the case of our luck, unsuspecting Death Eaters."

"Oh," he replied, feeling stupid. "So, what now?"

"Now, we hope we are not on an island . . . because that would make our situation even worse."

After walking inland for a few minutes, they came to a rough, human made opening in the green trees. The houses, if you could call them that, were more like roughly made huts out of pieces of wood and bark. Snape snapped at Harry to stay where he was while he went to go check it out. After half an hour, Snape came back.

"This area appears to have been abandoned. Nothing remains," he stated.

"So can we rest here for awhile and eat?" Harry asked, and Snape paused to think.

"I suppose. It couldn't hurt, and you are still sick."

"I just feel tired, now," he said, picking up a dirty stick from the ground and looking it over. "So, what's there to eat?"

Snape took the wet bag off his back before dropping it to the grass covered ground. Painfully slow, he sunk to his knees and opened the bag, pulling out hand plastic-wrapped food. He unwrapped a sausage, tearing a piece off with the best of his ability and handing it to Harry, who had started to go through the other contents of the bag. There wasn't much there. Except something that was once bread before they landed themselves in the ocean. The plastic didn't keep it very dry at all. There were also two canteens of water and a glass bottle that was labeled "Fever Reducer".

Quickly eating the piece of meat handed to him, Harry fell back in the grass and closed his eyes; he was close to falling asleep when he felt a hand on his forehead and he quickly opened his eyes and sat up, startled.

"Relax, I am merely seeing if you have a fever. You are still rather warm," Snape said, and Harry glared at the professor, not liking how he was startled. Snape took out the bottle of medicine and looked over it. There were no directions or any markings other than the name, and Harry was relieved when Snape put it back in the bag.

"I do not trust giving you something in which I do not know what it is," Snape explained. Not that Harry was complaining.

"It was labeled," he pointed out, though, and he inwardly yelled at himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

"But it is possible that it is the wrong label. Have you learned nothing during all your years of schooling?" Snape snapped.

"Yes, I have!" Harry answered, laying back down in the grass and picking up the stick again, tearing off small pieces of bark. "I've learned plenty!"

"What is the product of mixing aconite, Jobberknoll beak dusk, and unicorn tail hair, in that order, and what would be the proper times to add each?" Snape asked flatly. Harry stared at sitting man in confusion, and Snape smirked. "Don't know? You should be able to deduce a product from the material you learned in third year. It is not that hard."

"Not that hard? We've never learned any of that! That hasn't been in any potion we've worked with so far. I might not be the best at potions, but I know which ones we've done!"

"Potions are a delicate art, but a detailed one," Snape hissed. "You should know the properties of those three ingredients well by now and, from just those three, think of several possible products! By telling you the order in which to add them narrows it down quite a bit, but you still should be able to think of _something_! Being able to brew a potion correctly is the basics of potions, but being able to _create_ specifically what you need is the ground work for everything! Do you think those potions in your text were always around? No, they weren't," Snape answered before Harry could reply or interrupt the man's rant. "The beauty of potions is being able to _understand _exactly how and why it will work. _That_ is what is taught in advanced potions. _That_ is why advanced potions are needed to enter an apprenticeship that has no use for potions! Because it forces you to _think_, something I'm not so sure you are capable of, just studying what you need for an exam!"

Not able to respond to that, Harry turned on his side so his back faced the man, and he tried to sleep. He heard Snape stand up and walk off, but he didn't bother to stand and follow; he was sure, almost, that the professor wouldn't leave him and he was _tired_.

He wasn't able to fall asleep, though. His mind continued to repeat Snape's words, and he felt he had no choice but to think of what those ingredients could make.

Aconite was poisonous, he knew, and was used in the wolfsbane potion. Jobberknoll beak . . . Harry tried thinking back to his fourth year, the last time they used any Jobberknoll parts. Jobberknoll beak, when powered . . . was partially resistant to reacting with anything poisonous, that he remembered. And the stuff that did react caused a product that was even more poisonous. The unicorn tail . . . for the life of himself, he couldn't remember what it was used for in potions. It was strong, he remembered . . . and was used in potions for good dreams. When added with Jobberknoll beak . . .

He couldn't think of anything. He knew it would fully react, which meant that whatever it did, it was a strong reaction. And Jobberknoll beak didn't do anything good. Perhaps bad dreams? Yeah, that would make sense.

Which left the leftover aconite to react with the unicorn hair, if there were any left of both; you would have to make sure there was excess of both. The aconite and the unicorn tail hair would most likely balance each other out. The unicorn hair would keep you from dying, but . . . if there wasn't enough to wake you up again . . .

You might be stuck in a nightmare sleep. Harry groaned, not happy by that revelation. Still, satisfied by having some sort of answer, and not wanting Snape to stay made at him since the man offered to give him a home (he did _not_ want to mess that up), he stood up and went to find Snape. He found the man nearby in one of the huts, out of the sun. _I should have thought of that_, Harry thought.

"Would it make a nightmare potion? One that you wouldn't be able to wake up from?" Harry asked, stepping in, out of the too bright sun. Snape didn't answer at first.

"How did you deduce that?" Snape finally asked, and Harry shrugged, explaining his thoughts from before. The Potions Master nodded, listening.

"That could possibly make a simple potion that would cause that," Snape replied. "Although, a few other ingredients might be needed to have the desired effect."

"That would _not_ be a desired effect," Harry stated plainly, and Snape smirked.

"I was thinking of the potion, not of torture."

"Fine," Harry replied. "But you don't know?"

"There is no potion, that I know of, that uses only those three ingredients. Your guess is merely a theory, albeit a decent one."

"And _not_ one that I want to test," Harry stated, leaving no room for arguments. Snape didn't answer, hiding the laugh that was attempting to break free at the boy's expression. Harry, satisfied with having solved the puzzle, sat back down, his back against the dirty wall. "Where do you live? What's your house like?" he asked, interrupting the silence again, causing Snape to give him a rather mean look.

"I live at Hogwarts," Snape replied with a strongly irritated tone. Harry thought about shutting up, but he wanted to know.

"During school, sure, but what about during the summer?"

"Most of my summer is spent at the school, also," the Potions Master said coldly. "Especially now, since I cannot go back to spying; My . . . _house_ is known to a few within the Dark Lord's circle, and I would be easily found. In addition to that, it is not a comfortable building; the neighborhood is rather run down and the house is dark."

"Oh," he replied, sorry he asked. Snape obviously didn't want to talk about it. Disappointed, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, falling asleep.

He woke up later to Snape sitting down next to him, looking at him oddly.

"If you wish to stay with me, you would have a room in my quarters at Hogwarts. All professors quarters are large, and there would be plenty of room for you," the man said after Harry opened to his eyes. "If you want . . ." Snape trailed off, and Harry sat up from his slouched position, questioning Snape with his eyes. Snape was refusing to look at him, making him all the more confused. "If you want, you may stay with me for longer than the summer. Permanently, if you wish; until you move into your own home . . ."

"You mean . . ." Harry couldn't say it. Snape _couldn't_ be saying what he thought he was saying, and the thought almost made Harry cry. He was being offered a home for as long as he needed it, and Snape sounded like . . . like . . .

"Harry," the professor said, sounding pained by using his first name in such a manner. "Although you will most likely deny it, you are still a child. Just turned sixteen, and often in the wizarding world, a child will stay with their parents until they have a steady job, or they are in their early twenties, depending. And with how much . . . _guidance_ you were given with those muggles, I dare say you are going to need quite a bit of it in the years to come. And, as odd as it feels . . . I wish to help you. And if you are willing, I – I would like to adopt you."

The silence between the two was stunning and still, but neither's head was still or quiet. Harry couldn't help but think of how ironic it was that Snape, the man who hated his father and, consequently, him, wanted to _adopt _him. He had to admit, though, that he wanted it. He would have a _family_, even if it was only Snape; it was something he wanted his entire life.

He couldn't help but think that Snape would change his mind, though; that after this was all over, he would realize that he only _thought _he wanted to because they spent so much time together. Or maybe, it was because he was sick and delusional.

"You don't have to decide now," Snape said stiffly, standing up and holding out his hand to help the younger wizard do the same. "If you are rested enough, we should find where we are." Harry accepted the hand, standing up to realize how stiff and sore he was. He followed Snape to where the bag of food was left and through the 'village' to the other side and into the woods. It was just then that Harry realized how long he must have been asleep. The sun, which was hot and bright when he entered the small hut, was low on the horizon to their left, the sky an odd shade of purple. Wondering how he could sleep so long yet still feel so tired, he shook his head and continued to follow Snape.

They walked, according the setting of the sun, at least an hour, and Harry started getting anxious when he could no longer see very far in front of him.

"Couldn't we have waited for morning?" Harry asked, nearly tripping over a root or something he couldn't see.

"We can't stop here," Snape answered, and Harry did he best to keep close to his professor. He was almost glad for the challenge, though. For almost their entire walk, all Harry could think about was Snape wanting to adopt him. Or, Snape _thinking_ he wanted to adopt him. Now that it was dark and he had no idea where he should step and where he shouldn't, he mind was occupied enough that the problem was only on his outer conscious.

Soon, though, Harry was surprised when his foot sank slightly into the ground, startling him. Snape continued walking, but Harry bent down, to touch the ground, finding sand between his fingers. Looking up to find stars and an almost-full moon, he realized that he could see the outline of Snape ahead. Now paying attention to his surrounds past what was underneath his feet, he realized he heard water.

He ran to Snape, who had started walking quickly along the shore line and was much further to his left than when he crouched down, feeling as though he had a large stone in his stomach. They walked through the woods only to find more beach.

"Maybe it's a peninsula or something," Harry commented, trying to convince himself as well as make the suggestion to Snape. Ignoring him, Snape continued along the beach for a bit, probably another hour, and he worked hard to keep up with him, falling back a few times and leaving him to catch up once again. Still, Harry refused to stop, no matter how tired he got; no matter how many times he had to close his eyes and keep the sounds of the waves to his right while he kept walking, blind.

Suddenly, Snape stopped, causing Harry, who was running to catch up once again, to run into him.

"The beach keeps going," he mumbled, and Harry dreaded what that implied. "We _are_ on an island."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Almost." _He doesn't sound _that_ sure, _Harry thought to himself with hope. "Let's go back to the tree line and get some sleep for the rest of the night," Snape suggested, and Harry followed the now slow-walking man.

"It just keeps getting worse," Harry mumbled to himself, choosing to sleep in the sand instead of the dirt, which was now a foot over. "At least there doesn't seem to be anyone here to hurt us."


	7. P7: The Trapped Wait

**A/N: Read on!**

**Part 7 - The Trapped Wait**

"Harry," Snape said, gently shaking the boy who was now covered in sand. He was surprised that he managed to keep it out of his eyes during his sleep. "Wake up."

"Uhh," Harry murmured. "Not feeling good . . ." Snape had an odd feeling – perhaps worry, he realized – and he hoped that Harry wasn't getting worse. Feeling his forehead, he realized that the sun wasn't helping. Although it only just fully rose, Harry had chosen a place that was fully exposed to the sun.

"We need to go back to that village, Harry," he continued softly. "I didn't finish looking around, and there might be boats. Perhaps some more fresh water; I don't know how long the water we have will last with your fever . . ." Harry didn't respond, and Snape sighed, changing tactics. "Well, I'm not going to leave you here. Maybe," he sneered, "I should carry you?"

"No!" the boy said, sitting up quickly. "No, I can walk!" Now that Harry was awake, he handed him a canteen a bit of sausage. "I don't think I can eat," he complained, but took a few sips of the water.

"You must," Snape answered flatly, and stared until he took a few nibbles. "Just eat it slowly." He was about to scold him when he laid down again, but as he continued eating, Snape chose not to.

"Professor?" Harry asked between bites.

"Yes?"

"That village . . . they are all muggles, aren't they? It didn't feel like a village should be in Africa . . ." Harry continued to eat slowly as he waited for Snape to answer. For a while, it didn't appear that he would; the man was just sitting and staring off into the horizon. Finally, quietly, he answered.

"You understand that the Dark Lord is not a kind person . . ."

"No, really?" snapped Harry, sitting up a bit only to have his head reel, having to lay back down.

"He likes everything to go his way, and he is not above . . . _using_ people for his benefit."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused. He knew that Voldemort didn't care about people, but he was confused as to where his professor was going with this. He wished he would just feel better . . . it felt as if everything was confusing him, and the glare that Snape briefly gave him didn't make him feel any better.

"During the Dark Lord's first reign – probably a little bit before, actually – he set up villages of muggles near certain hideouts and headquarter – and I assure you, he has more than one. These muggles were . . . _are_ magically bound to the Dark Lord, but the village would appear to be normal to anyone who passes by. These muggles were never allowed to leave, and they produced supplied, like food, for those who stayed at the hideouts. The company of people, even muggles if they are 'put into place' as he often said, were much preferable to house elves."

"Wait . . ." Harry said slowly, disgusted. "Are you saying they were slaves?"

"The term 'slave' is rather harsh," Snape answered, sounding just as revolted by the situation as him. "I don't even believed they knew. It was . . ." the man trailed off. "Perhaps 'slave' _is_ the only fitting term," he concluded reluctantly. "Legally, that would be the term," he said too quiet for Harry to hear.

"Oh. Can . . . can they leave now? That lady? Would she be able to leave?"

Because Harry's eyes were closed, he missed Snape's expression, but the man's sudden cursing was all the answer he needed. He was pulled suddenly to his feet by his arm, and Snape steadied him before walking him along through the woods, hands on his shoulders to keep the dizzy teen from falling.

"Do you think she's okay?" Harry asked.

"That is the least of our worries now, Potter," the older wizard snapped. "If they found her, they merely needed to view her memories to know we disapparated. They will be searching the entire line between the village and England."

"Oh. But–."

"Quiet, Potter. When we get back to the . . . _huts_, you will be going back to sleep while I search for supplies we will need."

"But if they are searching for us, is it safe to leave the island? It's more open on the water," he pointed out.

"We will have to wait a few days and hope that they do not find us," Snape replied simply and emotionlessly. It wasn't much later when they stumbled into the abandoned village, much sooner than Harry anticipated. They must have been walking much slower during the night. Snape pushed him gently toward one of the huts in the shade, one of the more, out-of-the-way ones.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Snape was following, taking small sips from one of the canteens. Entering, Harry laid down against the wall immediately, not noticing Snape drop the bag he was carrying and look at him with a sad expression.

Outside, Severus was at a loss of what to do, so he walked into the next hut over. He was surprised to find a ratty blanket, made of some unknown material, half buried under the loosely packed dirt. Unlike the hut Harry was currently in, it had no man-made floor and it was much smaller.

He pulled up the blanket and looked at it with disdain. It felt as if it was made with straw, and who knew what sort of diseases it was carrying. Realizing he wasn't going to find anything useful here, he moved to the next one.

After searching carefully through each hut and finding nothing more useful than a hammer, Severus went back to Harry to check on him and take another small drink, careful not to take too much. Unless they found freshwater somewhere on the island, that was all they had.

Satisfied that the boy was asleep, left and walked back into the woods. He had to make sure they were actually on an island and it would be much quicker without the sick child to drag along. Also, he was hoping there was a boat _somewhere_, even if it was in bad condition. If they were to be here for awhile, they would have time to repair it well enough. Walking through the trees for the third time, Severus paid closer attention to his surroundings, making note of anything that could possibly come in useful later.

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Harry woke suddenly with a bad feeling and in a cold sweat, but he couldn't place why exactly he felt so nervous. He had an odd dream about needing to hide this odd, mushy orange stuff from Snape which made absolutely no sense to him, but even with that strange feeling, he _knew_ there was no orange stuff to hide. _So what, then?_ he thought.

Sitting up, he was glad to find that his head was no longer spinning, so he looked around the room curiously before standing up and walking to the entrance. Carefully, he opened the crude door a crack to find that the sun was setting. _So I slept all day, then_, he commented unnecessarily to himself. _But where's Snape?_ Thinking that the man was in some other hut resting or thinking of a way off what was probably an island, he began to peek inside other nearby huts. He laughed quietly at the thought of finding Snape making a raft like in some muggle movie where the characters were stranded.

Not seeing Snape outside and not finding him in any of the huts, the nervousness that he woke up with came back threefold. _He's just . . . out looking for stuff_, he tried to convince himself, walking back to the hut he woke up in.

"Professor?" he asked, then mentally hit himself. What if the Death Eaters found Snape and were looking for him, now? Or what if they found Snape and the man told them that he was dead and they left? And he was left on the island _alone_. Or . . .

No, he wasn't going to think about that. He knew Snape wouldn't leave him intentionally. Entering the hut again and spotting the bag proved that the potions master didn't leave, so . . . the man was either hurt, captured, or still looking for stuff. He hoped it was the last one. Harry thought about going out to look for him, but stopped at the prospect of Snape coming back here and not finding him, only to yell and refuse to let him live with him when he returned.

"I'll wait . . . if he's not back soon, I'll look for him," he said aloud, nodding and cutting himself another small slice of sausage. He hoped it wasn't going to go bad, soon. It was the only food they had.

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Making it back to the huts after the sun had fallen far beneath the trees, and probably below the horizon, Snape entered the hut he left Harry in, keeping the door open with a rock to allow what little light was left outside in. He found the boy sitting with his back to the wall, his knees brought up to his chin, and his arms around his legs, and he glanced up with such a look of relief on his face that Snape felt bad about not coming back sooner. He should have realized, especially with the recent realization that the Death Eaters probably had some idea of where to look for them, that Harry would have jumped to conclusions if he woke up alone.

Having an odd feeling of not wanting to embarrass Harry with his realizations, Snape decided to not bring it up.

"Do you know how to start a fire without matches?" he asked instead, and the brat gave him a look that clearly said that Snape should know.

"You mean with matches?" he asked, and Snape resisted the urge to yell at him.

"No," he replied flatly. "I mean without magic, without matches, without any starters at all."

"Oh," Harry said with a small laugh. "Er . . . rub two sticks together?" he suggested. "Why?"

"I found water, a pond, but we will not drink the water until it has been boiled," Snape answered.

"And how do you plan on boiling one water once you start the fire? Levitate it?"

"Stop it with your cheek," Snape snapped, tired of the boy's attitude. "I found a few metal bowls."

"Sorry," Harry answered, suddenly remembering that this was the man he was going to be living with. It was just so hard being _good_ around him all the time, though. _As long as he doesn't go back to being his mean self_, he thought.

"I'm assuming you're feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm not dizzy anymore. Well, not as dizzy, but I'm hungry . . ."

"Yes," Snape answered slowly. He had eaten several large blackberries he had found throughout the day, but . . . "You didn't eat all the sausage, did you?"

"No! I only had one slice that I ate when I woke up," he answered as Snape took out the sausage and cut himself and Harry another piece before looking at the knife closely.

"If necessary," he said quietly, "we could hunt, although I hope we leave before that's necessary."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. After they had eaten and drank a bit, Snape laid down.

"Go to sleep," he told Harry, and he scowled in the now-dark hut. "And close the door. I don't want anything wandering in here." Standing up and making his way almost blindly to the door to close it, Harry complained.

"I just woke up!"

"Well, then _don't_ go to sleep! Just sit in the dark and do nothing, but don't bother _me!_" he snapped.

"Fine!" Harry snapped back, sitting down on the ground, hard. He heard Snape move.

"Can you not go a day without arguing?"

Harry didn't answer; instead, he continued to sulk. After sitting for what was probably half an hour daydreaming, he did finally lay down.

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The next two days were slightly better. Harry was able to start a fire, probably due to accidental magic because he became angry that he _couldn't_ start a fire, they lived on blackberries and sausage and the odd tasting pond water. On the second day, Harry was bored so he attempted to catch a fish – which he did, but it really was too small too eat.

"If you wish to eat fish," Snape said flatly, "you'll have to go to the ocean. There wouldn't be anything edible in that small pond. Of course, I don't suggest you stay in the open for too long."

"No, I really don't like fish," Harry answered. "I just wanted to see if I could catch it. How long are we going to stay here? I mean, you _did_ find that boat, and you said there's no hole or anything . . ."

"Perhaps we should leave soon. Just because this island hasn't been searched, doesn't mean it won't soon . . ." Snape thought out loud, more to himself than anything. They _were_ both feeling better, without the aid of the unknown medicine, and the boat – well, more of a crudely make canoe (like everything else on the island) – had been afloat all day in the pond and had not sunk yet. He made a decision. "Tomorrow morning, we'll gather as many berries and boil as much water as we can in the bowls. With no land in sight–."

"And with those horrible paddles we made," Harry teased, causing a look from his (hopefully) soon-to-be legal guardian. _Hopefully_, Harry thought.

"– we need to make sure we have enough to sustain ourselves."

"Yeah," Harry answered, excited by the prospect of finally getting off the island. "You know, for as unlucky as we have been," he continued, "we've been rather lucky, don't you think?"

"How do you mean?" Snape asked, almost in a curious manner.

"Well, for one, that area under that house . . . houses don't come like that often, I reckon. And the fact that there was food, water, _and_ a boat on this island?"

"Just be glad you're still alive, Potter," Snape growled.


End file.
